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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24888760">1-800-273-8255</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/mitigates/pseuds/mitigates'>mitigates</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Songfics [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Friendship, Hurt and comfort, M/M, Suicide, broship, friends helping friends, hinaoi, no smut sry</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 01:06:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,470</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24888760</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/mitigates/pseuds/mitigates</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Hinata and Oikawa post-injury, injuries that ruined their careers.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hinata Shouyou/Oikawa Tooru, kind of - Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Songfics [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1800937</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>72</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1-800-273-8255</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is tagged with 'graphic depictions of violence' simply because of the obvious suicide implications. Thank you for reading and remember the name of the song, it can save a life.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>I’ve been on the low, I been taking my time</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I feel like I’m out of my mind.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It feel like my life ain’t mine (who can relate?)</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Hinata and Oikawa are two very different variations of the same side of a piece of dice. They’re both like the 6. It has the most grooves, the most impressions, the most changes to it, but it is still only one side.</p><p> </p><p>There are so many other pieces of dice in the world that if their side was removed, it could easily be changed out for a brand spanking new side. Neither of them realized that until it was too late. </p><p> </p><p>Oikawa realized it when he dove for a ball that he was the closest to, a ball the would determine who was going to win the match. They were up by 2 points and it was about to be over. It came down to that last volley. It came down to the opposing team spiking the ball impossibly hard straight at Oikawa, he barely had time to react.</p><p> </p><p>But he did.</p><p> </p><p>He had a perfect receive after a quick lunge to his left. He ignored the pop he felt in his knee and watched as his team made the play and scored the final point.</p><p> </p><p>They had won.</p><p> </p><p>His team was jumping in celebration and he was crying. He never let his emotions get to him in public, not in the middle of the court especially. He sat in stunned silence, tears streaming down his face. It took him another two minutes to realize that the rest of the court was silent. They were all looking at him. He tried to force his usual blindingly white smile, but he couldn’t. The coach was at his side in seconds and he realized he still hadn’t gotten off of the floor after that last dig. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I don’t wanna be alive, I don’t wanna be alive</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I just wanna die today, I just wanna die</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And let me tell you why</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t move, Oikawa.” </p><p>Oikawa blinked up at his coach, confused as all hell. Why shouldn’t he move? Better yet, why <em>couldn’t </em>he move? He looked down at his leg and squinted at his knee. It was already a dark purplish color, he thought he could see something ivory-colored jutting out, but that wasn’t possible. He didn’t have any more time to think about it as he lost consciousness.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>All this other shit I’m talking about, they think they know it</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I’ve been praying for somebody to save me, no one’s heroic</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And my life don’t even matter, I know it, I know it</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I know I’m hurting deep down, but can’t show it</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Hinata realized the same thing as Oikawa during the final match of his own tournament. His team was headed to the finals, one more point and they were going.</p><p>Atsumu called his name as the ball lifted away from his fingers. Hinata sprinted to the net for the spike and hit it so perfectly. Hinata saw it, everything he had been looking for, he saw the top of the summit as he felt the sting of the perfect hit on the palm of his hand.</p><p>He saw the striped ball slam into the ground with the most satisfying smack, winning them the game. He saw blackness after as hit legs hit the ground at an awkward slant. His lower leg was bent as a funny angle. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I never had a place to call my own, I never had a home, ain’t nobody calling my phone</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Where you been? Where you at? What’s on your mind?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>They say every life precious but nobody care about mine</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Months passed for both of them. Months of pain, doctor’s appointments, and inconsolable crying. They both sat in the office of the best orthopedic surgeon in the country with emotionless expressions as they were told their volleyball careers were over. Oikawa was going more than likely going to walk with a slight limp for the rest of his life. Hinata was going to have to look down at the scars from repeated unsuccessful surgeries that spread from his foot up towards his shin.</p><p>They saw each other in passing at the same office, but they didn’t notice each other once. They didn’t notice each other until one fateful night, one long year later.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I’ve been on the low, I been taking my time</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Hinata stared up at the stars and was so happy that the night was so beautiful. He clutched the bottle between his legs and smiled sleepily. He wasn’t even tired, the cold and the bitter alcohol just made him sleepier than he would be on a normal night. </p><p> </p><p>There mundane sounds of the rare traffic passing by didn’t phase him in the slightest, he could barely hear over the roar of his own thoughts.</p><p>Oikawa parked his car down the street. He figured he would get the last few minutes of enjoyment walking in the crisp air underneath a beautiful night sky. He reached his destination, a bridge overlooking the water. It was high enough that he would succeed. </p><p> </p><p>He adjusted his bag on his shoulder and swung one long leg over the side. He hit something soft and heard a yelp.</p><p> </p><p>“What the fuck-” Oikawa whispered as he swung his uninjured leg over. He spied his bright orange hair first. Seconds later, curious light brown eyes peered back at it. “Shoyo?” Oikawa glanced down at the small orange-haired creature in front of him and realized that it was Shoyo Hinata, but at the same time, it wasn’t. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I feel like I’m out of my mind.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Hinata was the sun, he was the human version of the center of the Solar System. You couldn’t help but be blinded by his brightness. The person sitting on the edge of the outside of the bridge staring up at Oikawa was not the sun. He was a fragment of something that burned up after getting too close to the sun. His eyes were dull, having long lost his signature shine. His hair didn’t even have that glowing orange recognizable curl. Whatever he had inside of him before had withered. Looking at him showed clear evidence of that.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>It feel like my life ain’t mine</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Oikawa.” Hinata nodded toward the man towering over him. He glanced at his injured leg. “Need a hand? My hands work just fine.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s the only part of me that works without fail as well.” Oikawa tried to smile but it probably looked like something absolutely insane.</p><p> </p><p>He sat next to Hinata and glanced at the bottle between his legs. “You’re almost out.”</p><p> </p><p>Hinata looked down. “Guess I am.”</p><p> </p><p>“Did you drink the whole bottle?”</p><p> </p><p>“Nah, there wasn’t that much left. I took it from one of the guys. Not old enough to buy my own, ya know?” Hinata tried to smile back and his attempt was a lot more flattering.</p><p> </p><p>Oikawa nodded and remembered that Hinata was a few years younger than him, not even past the drinking age, and there he was...seemingly having the same ideas as Oikawa. “What are you doing up here?” He pulled his own bottle out of his backpack.</p><p>Hinata watched with a blank expression as Oikawa twisted the cap off and let it fall into the water below them. He didn’t speak for a while until he finally returned the question. “What are <em>you </em>doing up here?”</p><p> </p><p>Oikawa let out a soft breath and tilted his head back as he brought the bottle to his lips. He took in the flawless scene happening above their heads, the marriage of night and stars were an incredible experience. “I’m-” He sighed. “I’m just taking a moment.”</p><p> </p><p>“Me too.” Hinata pushed the bottle off of the concrete he was sitting on and followed it until it drowned in the raging waters below.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s littering.”</p><p> </p><p>Hinata laughed softly. “You started it.”</p><p> </p><p>Oikawa took more long gulps then offered his bottle to his companion. “Want some?”</p><p> </p><p>Hinata nodded and winced as it burned his throat. “Gross.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, it’s awful.” Oikawa took the bottle back.</p><p> </p><p>A cursory glance at each other showed a mutual understanding of why they were there. It was just the most astonishing coincidence in the world that they were there at the same spot at the same time. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I want you to be alive, I want you to be alive</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You don’t gotta die today, you don’t gotta die</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I want you to be alive, I want you to be alive</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You don’t gotta die, now lemme tell you why</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“How’s the knee?” Hinata asked as he reached for his bag.</p><p> </p><p>Oikawa looked down at the useless hunk of a limb that he had stopped acknowledging as being part of him. “It’s still there, purposeless as fuck.” He nudged Hinata’s foot with his own. “How’s yours?”</p><p> </p><p>“About the same.” Hinata looked down at his own leg, feeling nothing towards it or anything else at that point. He kicked his shoes off and watched them disappear into the chaos.</p><p> </p><p>Oikawa looked down at his own shoes and did the same. He let out a short laugh, the first one he’d expelled from his mouth in months. “Anybody know you’re out here?”</p><p> </p><p>“No. I left my phone at home.” Hinata responded softly. He looked at Oikawa, the question in his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“I did as well.” He didn’t care to admit that he had turned his phone off days ago and nobody had come to visit since. Post-injury Oikawa was not somebody that anybody he had ever met wanted to be around. He wasn’t just mean, he was cruel. He was cruel to people that he knew didn’t deserve it, he was cruel when he didn’t need to be. He isolated himself on purpose.</p><p> </p><p>Hinata had the opposite issue. As badly as he tried to isolate himself, the constant outpouring of support wouldn’t stop. He might as well have been in a mental hospital with the way he was being watched. He woke up a few months ago and one of his teammates was asleep on his floor. He couldn’t handle it. He decided the best thing to do for his own sanity was just stop talking to people. He was still living with his teammates despite the doctor’s diagnosis that he would never play volleyball again. Seeing them in their uniforms made him feel physically ill and he was tired of putting on a bright face and watching their games. He would spend every single set staring at something in the background, not looking at the court once. He was tired of it all. It hurt to think about where he would be had he just thought for longer than the millisecond he usually took and adjusted his stance when he jumped. He had no interest in spending another night thinking about the ‘what if’. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>It’s the very first breath when your head’s been drowning underwater</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Oikawa leaned against the cold concrete behind him and stared at the stars. He took a long sip of the amber liquid and handed it back to Hinata. “I’m tired.”</p><p> </p><p>Hinata accepted the bottle and winced again as he stipped it. His drink was at least decent tasting. “Tell me about it.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>And it’s the lightness in the air when you’re there chest-to-chest with a lover</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“I-” Something deep inside Oikawa, so deep inside of him that he had to fight to bring it to the surface and vocalize, did want to tell Hinata.</p><p> </p><p>Hinata handed the bottle back. “Tell me about it, Toru.” </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>It’s holding on, through the road’s long, seeing light in the darkest things</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Oikawa stared at Hinata. His voice was soft, like a worn-down pillow that he’s had for years because it fits his head so perfectly. He searched his eyes for that familiar spark. They sat there for fifteen minutes, drinking and staring. They eventually turned to face each other, leaning against the concrete for support while their injured body parts hung over the water. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m just so tired, Shoyo.” Oikawa whispered.</p><p>
  <em>And when you stare at your reflection, finally knowing who it is</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I know that you’ll thank God you did</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Hinata barely heard him over the roar of the water, but he knew enough about himself to understand what Oikawa was saying through his expression and body language. It wasn’t different than what he had been saying himself.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I know where you been, where you are, where you goin’</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I know you’re the reason I believe in life</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Hinata straightened up slightly and tried to smile. It was the first time in so many months he was actually trying to smile for a reason other than trying to make someone who felt bad for him feel better. Oikawa stared at him, his head tilted slightly, and watched him. Hinata ran his fingers through the limp orange waves on his head.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>What’s the day without a little night?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I’m just tryna shed a little light</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It can be hard, it can be so hard</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Does anybody know?” Hinata asked, finally vocalizing what each of them had been trying not to ask the other.</p><p> </p><p>“No. You?”</p><p> </p><p>Hinata shook his head. His chest felt tight, but in a different way than it had felt tight over the past year. “I-” He choked the word out. His cheek felt itchy and he reached his fingers up to scratch but realized that it was just a single salty tear sliding towards his chin. He dabbed at the drop with his finger and watched it pool and slide down his palm.</p><p> </p><p>Oikawa’s breath came out ragged as he watched Hinata start sobbing. Heavy wracking sobs that made the hair on the back of his neck stand at attention. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>But you gotta live right now, you got everything to give right now</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Moments later, they were in each other’s arms.  </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I’ve been on the low, I been taking my time</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It feel like my life ain’t mine (who can relate?)</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Oikawa’s weightless tears flowed against Hinata’s gray t-shirt. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I finally wanna be alive, I finally wanna be alive</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I don’t wanna die today, I don’t wanna die</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Hinata’s fingers dug into Oikawa’s shoulder, his nails scraping against the skin that his sleeveless shirt revealed.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Pain don’t hurt the same, I know, The lane I travel feels alone</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But I‘m moving ‘til my legs give out and I see my tears melt in the snow</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But I don’t wanna cry, I don’t wanna cry anymore</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Do you want to come over?” Oikawa said in gasped breaths against Hinata’s neck.</p><p> </p><p>“Ye-yes,” Hinata responded immediately.</p><p> </p><p>They walked back towards Oikawa’s car, leaving behind their shoes, Hinata’s bike, and the doubts of their own lives.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I wanna feel alive, I don’t even wanna die anymore</em>
</p>
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